Saturday, November 06, 2004

I recently administered a caning to man while wearing – at his request - a red PVC ball gown, complete with tight-laced bodice, puffy skirt, and a train. I felt like a fetish Scarlett O'Hara.

Roman and I had a writer-to-writer discussion about conflict as a plot device while he went down on me. (Obviously he had to sort of stop licking me to talk, but it was still damned impressive. I know I lost my train of thought a few times.)

Jake and I talked about the increasingly incestuous little band of perverts that's floating around the edges of my social life these days. Except for me, I think all of the small pool of women that Jake is playing with, or has played with lately, is/has also played with two or three other guys – by which I mean, the same two or three other guys. That's not inherently bad, you understand, it just makes social events where everyone is going to be there a little – unpredictable. For example, the bondage class/party tomorrow night. I have no idea who's coming with who, or what mix-and-match configurations might result. I'm going with Max, that's all I know. And anyone who wants him to tie them up should be very nice to me.

I've been unsure about talking about this here – but, what the hell. I recently became the proud owner of a fucking machine. I've always wanted one, and I'm extremely pleased by this one. Not only does it work like a charm, but it even looks cool. I'd post a picture of it, but I need to get Mike's permission. You remember Mike, my previous secondary? Well, actually, Mike came back onto the scene a little while back. Naughty of me not to have told you, but I can be that way sometimes. Things with the other girl didn't quite fly, so Mike turned up, being as charming as he can be, which is considerable. I thought about playing hard to get - but he seduced me back, because he knows one of my major fetishes.
You see, Mike is a metal artist. He works in other mediums as well, but that metal thing, mmmm-hmmmn, it's sexy. And so is Mike.
So Mike built me a really cool fucking machine, and I foresee having a lot of fun with it. There's something so delightfully relentless about machines. They just don't care about you one little bit. (This is also one of the reasons why I like playing with electricity.) So if someone set this machine in motion and walked away, well, it would just keep on pumping until I – whoops, I mean they – came back. Doesn't really matter whether you like it or not.
Oh, that's sexy. Very sexy.
But the thing is, Mike has a very distinct style in metal art, and if you knew him, and you saw a picture of this machine, you'd immediately recognize it as his work. Now, he may not care, but I need to check with him first. So perhaps we'll have a picture of the machine – probably without a victim attached – sometime.